


Quintus' Favourite Customer

by Possumscan



Category: Cambridge Latin Course
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Apartments, Beards, Cuddling & Snuggling, Don't worry there's no sex, M/M, Netflix and Chill, Painting, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6037126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Possumscan/pseuds/Possumscan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quintus works in his dad's coffeeshop. One day, a certain customer changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caramel

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so here it goes. This is my first post to AO3 so if something goes weird, that's probably my fault. And yes, I know it's not very good. It might get better, though.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbillus is one of Quintus' usual customers. And probably the hottest.

The Pompeii Coffeehouse was quite small. There were three or four tables, plus seats at the counter. Generally speaking, the customers were elderly, so you had to put up with a lot of leftover bingo tickets and bridge cards to clear up and the end of the day.  
Quintus didn’t really care. Work was a distraction; an escape from the fact that he could be off at university, studying Roman history like he’d wanted to do back in college. But the tuition fees were more than he could earn in a year or two, so for now he was getting by.  
Of course, there were the good parts to this job: the free food (although usually walnut cake or cinnamon rolls, which somehow always got ignored), and Barbillus.  
Quintus couldn’t help smiling when Barbillus came through the door. He always looked so out of place, the dreary surroundings of the shop conflicting heavily with Barbillus, always dressed in a black trenchcoat and red-green tartan scarf which hugged his neatly trimmed beard. That was the best part, the beard. Hell, he was named after it. His order was usually a caramel latte, which he drank by the counter. Quintus liked to listen to him talking - work, home, cat videos, he could talk about the paper industry in 1970s Latvia and still be interesting.  
Mondays were the rainiest day of the week, when you could barely see through the window from the battering onslaught of splash after splash. Quintus glanced over to the clock, ticking steadily on the wall. Five to eleven. Barbillus arrives at eleven, thought Quintus. He brushed down the counter and began to prepare a caramel latte.  
The bell over the door jingled as Barbillus entered, wiping rain from his face. He hung his coat over the radiator and slumped down on a stool.  
‘Nice weather today,’ Quintus indicated the creaking trees on the avenue.  
‘It's alright for you!’ retorted Barbillus. ‘Who's the one who walked all the way here?’  
Quintus smiled as he handed over the coffee. Barbillus held it right in his shivering hands, not quite recovered from the rain. His hand slipped and a streak of caramel and froth ran down his beard and over his shirt.  
‘Here, let me get that -’ Quintus leant over the counter with a towel.  
‘Hey, get off! I can do that myself!’ laughed Barbillus. He reached up to take the towel and instead found a hand. Blushing, his eyes flicked up and met Quintus’. They both looked away, let their hands go, and sat in near silence for a while.  
‘Come with me,’ Barbillus eventually said. ‘The town's practically empty, no one will come in for the rest of the day.’  
‘What? Come where?’ Quintus stammered, excited at the prospect.  
‘To my house. Oh, you can't sit here all day and just wait. We can watch a movie or something - I've got the whole day off from art college.’  
Quintus didn't quite know what to say. This was what he'd been hoping to hear for a few weeks, but now he felt almost nervous. They'd met loads before, in the shop, in the park, but never at home. After some thought, he replied, ‘OK. My dad's out: he won't know if I shut up shop. It's only a few hours, anyway.’


	2. Barbillus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quintus visits Barbillus' apartment.

Quintus turned off the coffee machine and locked the cash machine. Then he and Barbillus left the coffeeshop, and under the shelter of a checkered umbrella and the leafless autumn trees. As they walked, Quintus shrank into the soft wool of Barbillus’ coat, the wind slamming against them like teeth of ice. Barbillus smiled and slipped his arm around Quintus, as they turned the corner and trudged through the doors of Barbillus’ apartment block, soaked and cold.  
Click. Barbillus unlocked the door and Quintus slowly crossed the threshold, taking everything in.   
‘You like it then?’ Barbillus asked.  
‘It’s… amazing. How can you afford this?’ Quintus replied.  
Barbillus looked round from the cupboard. ‘It's called work. You know, that thing I do every weekday between nine and five?’  
‘OK, OK, I get it.’  
‘Right, let's put on a film or something. Uh, look over on that shelf - yeah, that one - find something there, if you want, or if you can find the remote then try Netflix.’  
Quintus surveyed the shelf. It was a fairly monotonous collection of black and grey, comprising of a few black-sleeved action films and the others grey-skinned 90s crime dramas.  
‘Hmm, maybe we should try Netflix.’  
Barbillus came out from the cupboard where he'd stuffed the costs against the faint heat of the radiator. ‘Didn't find much then? I lent most of the good ones to my cousin. Big mistake, because he moved to Canada last year and won't talk to me long enough to mention the DVDs.’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway, take a look; find something you like.’  
Quintus began to look. He scrolled past row after row of films. This was a test. If he chose the wrong movie, he could seem like an absolute loser, he thought.  
Barbillus sauntered over and stood behind the sofa. He watched Quintus flicking through the menus.  
‘You're not very decisive, are you? Here, it's easy. You take the remote,’ he held it in one hand and whilst closing his eyes tapped a selection of buttons, ‘And so we have… Star Trek: Into Darkness. That alright with you?’  
Quintus nodded. Barbillus jumped onto the sofa, next to Quintus.  
‘So, why does everyone like Benedict Cumberbatch so much anyway?’ demanded Barbillus.  
‘Well, he's quite good-looking, I suppose, but not as much as some people -’  
‘Anyone in particular?’  
Quintus turned his head towards Barbillus, who was running his long fingers through Quintus’ curly hair. ‘You.’  
Barbillus grinned and moved closer to Quintus. With his hand against the back of Quintus’ head, their lips met in a long, passionate kiss. Quintus noted the rich caramel taste of Barbillus’ mouth; Barbillus felt the embrace that did not seem to end. Eventually, they hurriedly pulled apart as Quintus heard his phone ring. He paced over to the corner of the room and answered the call. ‘Hello?’  
‘Ah, is that Quintus Iucundus?’  
The voice was cold and unfeeling. Quintus shakingly replied, ‘Yes.’  
‘It's your father. There's been an accident, a car crash -’  
But Quintus didn't hear any more. He let the phone fall to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the Netflix and (kind of) Chill.


	3. Paint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbillus has big plans for the coffeeshop. Quintus does his best.

Quintus and Barbillus sat in the coffeeshop, completely silent. The funeral had been a small affair which rained throughout, smudging the ground into a muddy disarray. Rain fell like the day Quintus first heard the news.   
Quintus sat by the counter, tears streaming from his eyes. ‘What do I do now? I can't run this place and I have nowhere to live without my dad's flat.’  
Barbillus pulled his chair over to Quintus and slipped his latte. ‘We can run it together. We might need to do something about all this -’ he indicated the peeling wallpaper and chipped tables. Quintus looked around. He'd never noticed that before. There always used to be some sort of filter that blocked out the fact that the café was failing, but now it suddenly struck him that he couldn't give up on it. This was his father's life, and now it was his too. Brushing the tears from his cheeks, Quintus gave a faint smile. ‘Really? You'd do that?’  
‘We’d do it,’ corrected Barbillus. ‘Together.’  
The next day, Barbillus arrived, hauling a battered gym bag. He dumped it onto the counter and unzipped it.  
‘Paint?’ Quintus was confused.  
‘Well, we need to do something. It's a bit… tatty in places. Like there. And there. Oh, over there too. This here. And -’  
‘Okay, okay. Painting it is, then.’  
Quintus picked out a deep red. Barbillus set to work pulling off the drab strips of paper, as Quintus pushed the tables and chairs towards the back wall. Once all the paper was off, both took a thick brush and started from one end each. Quintus worked slowly, making sure the coating was consistent, whilst Barbillus took great sweeping strokes at the wall, quickly moving nearer to Quintus. As they reached Barbillus flicked his brush at Quintus, spraying red paint across his forehead. Quintus jabbed his brush towards Barbillus, colouring his cheeks scarlet. Both grabbed hold of each other, faces vermillion with paint. Laying on the floor, Barbillus pushed his face against Quintus’, lips intertwining in a caramel-flavoured enclaspment. They rolled over on the cold terracotta tiles. Quintus felt Barbillus’ warm breath on his neck, and closed his eyes to take in the experience. ‘I suppose the paint is dry now.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. I bet the paint bit was uncomfortable. I had to stop myself from making it any worse.


	4. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quintus isn't entirely happy with all Barbillus' changes.

Barbillus brought Quintus over to the table. He produced a catalogue from the gym bag. ‘Look, I've found this,’ he pointed to a black table. ‘We could get these instead of these old things, their legs are wobbly and the surface is cracked, so -’  
Quintus stepped back, saying nothing. He wandered over to the window. ‘Isn't it all a lot to do at once? I don't want to change everything, then it won't be the same coffeeshop my dad started up and -’   
Barbillus put his hand on Quintus’ shoulder. ‘Look, I'm not saying we should change everything, but if we finish this you'll feel better. Your dad wouldn't want you to spend every moment worrying about him, would he?’  
Quintus turned back to the room. ‘You're right. Let's do it.’  
It was a week later when they reopened the coffeeshop. Barbillus was right, it did make Quintus feel better. And now it was also a popular music venue, with Loquax and Anti-Loquax performing every Thursday evening behind the bar. Barbillus got all the caramel lattes he wanted, of course, now that Quintus was living with him. They eventually got round to finishing that Star Trek movie. And if you ever visit, you'll see something written on the chalkboard by the door:  
Caecilius semper est in horto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so cheesy and weird please don't attack me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, Barbillus sounds like a pervert, but he's not. It's all okay.


End file.
